In Time
by blackwidowbby
Summary: One morning, Hermione Granger wakes up to find the life she knew has vanished.


The sweet breath warmed her cheeks and feather light whispers of hair brushed her forehead. Crinkling her brow, Hermione Granger reached forward with her hand and pushed. The room was filled immediately with raucous laughter. The precious giggle of a child akin to church bells ringing on a warm Sunday morning filled her ears and her lips curved to a soft smile. Suddenly, the warm sugary breath was back, warming her cheeks and filling her stomach with a deep yearning for breakfast. Stretching her arms, Hermione made show of waking up and the laughter grew. Cracking an eye, Hermione was confronted with the excitable face of her daughter. She quickly clenched her eyes shut again and loudly snored. Her false snoring was cut short when a heavy force practically fell onto her abdomen. Her eyes snapped opened and widened at the force bouncing on her stomach. There sat her precocious three-year old daughter, wiggling on her stomach and giggling infectiously.

"Good morning," Hermione murmured sleepily and swept a hand over her eyes to adjust to the light.

"Morning," Her daughter chirped happily and slapped her hands to both sides of Hermione's face.

Hermione grumbled unintelligibly. Her cheeks were sunken and little fingers massaged the apple of her cheeks amid infectious giggles. Her daughter, Georgiana explored her face mapping the laugh lines, thick brows and curved nose. She lingered at the thin skin at Hermione's forehead and traced the scar repeatedly with her finger. It was a small scar and the skin had turned pink from where it had healed. The scar lingered as a stark reminder of her role in the war. It was, of course, not the only scar that her body had not erased. Lifting her arms over her head, Hermione stretched and extended them forward to tackle Georgiana to her chest. Her arms wrapped snugly around her daughter and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of her head. Georgiana wiggled and giggled against her bosom attempting to squirm away.

"Oh no, you won't," Hermione teased and rolled her onto the bed.

Georgiana began screaming, kicking and waving her arms wildly.

"GETOFFME." Georgiana screeched, "You are crushing me!"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione rolled away and slowly moved out of bed. Georgiana continued to screech and flail on the bed as if she were tickled by her mother's hands. As Hermione flung the wardrobe doors open, the screeching silenced and Georgina had crawled to the edge of the bed. Her feet were thrown over the side of the bed frame and she kicked her heels against the wooden board. Hermione thumbed through her clothing and chose a simple blue dress with a pleated skirt and collar around the scoop neck. The knocking of her daughter's feet stopped and Hermione turned around. Her husband stood in the doorway, nursing his cup of coffee and watching them silently. In turn, Georgiana had fixed her attention to her father and a grin was creeping on her face. Instead of acknowledging either of them, he moved across the room to the bed that Georgiana sat on and Hermione had just crawled from. He rested his mug onto the bedside table and grasped the sheets. With a sharp tug, he pulled the sheets to headboard and righted the pillows on the bed. For a brief second, Georgiana looked as if she were going to fall back onto the bed and ruin his work, but he pinned her with a firm glare. Her smile morphed into a smirk and Georgiana hopped off the bed.

"Well done," Georgiana enthused and rocked on the heels of her feet. Her arms were crossed behind her fiddling with the bow at her lower back. "You did not even require my assistance," She added and began to rock from one side to the other.

"Desist your wiggling," Severus Snape snapped.

Georgiana desisted, but her smile did not waver. Her dark eyes glittered with mirth and she tip-toed to where her father stood. Throwing her arms around his middle, she enclosed him in a tight hug and buried her face into his thigh. "You have fairy dust on your pants," Georgiana murmured into the fabric of her father's trousers. Lifting her head, she smacked at the tightly pressed black fabric and was disappointed when the sparkling dust did not vanish.

"It is not fairy dust," Severus corrected, but did not insist she quit her cleaning efforts of his pants. "It is ground unicorn horn," He added and peered down at her.

Their gazes met and Georgiana questioned, "Like My Little Pony at Nan's?"

Hermione strained to keep a straight face. Her daughter's latest interest in the children's television show, My Little Pony, was the bane of her husband's existence. Every evening, Georgiana would recount what had occurred on the television, insisting her father join her to watch the next episode, which Severus could never bring himself to do. The American television show was too fantastical with its talking ponies and rainbow hair even for a wizard. Nonetheless, Georgiana was never deterred and continued to ask - every day. When she could and there was never a moment when she did not try, Georgiana invoked the show to teach her father 'valuable Pony friend lessons.' This continued infatuation provided Hermione with daily amusement.

Rolling his eyes, Severus did not take the bait to engage in another conversation about Rainbow Dash's adventures. "Unicorns exist, Georgiana. Pegasus does-," His correction was broken off by Hermione loudly clearing her throat.

This argument continued as one of their most frequent. Severus was determined to teach their child the rational elements of life while Hermione insisted she cling to the imaginary a bit longer. He saw little use for this activity. In their world, the greater part of a child's imagination was fact. There was no need to feed her stories about flying horses like Pegasus when Thestrals were readily available to discuss.

"The telly requires your attention, Georgiana." Severus begrudgingly added, "Tell Rainbow Dash we send our regards." Georgiana yelped in excitement and stole out of the room to the parlour to watch telly. The theme song was already beginning to trail down the hall and Severus groaned quietly. With wicked amusement, Hermione began to hum the song but stopped short at feeling Severus' cold hands gliding over her middle.

"My pain amuses you?" He asked grumpily and pressed his lips to the throbbing pulse in her neck. His teeth raked across her warm skin forcing it to grow warmer under his administrations. When he repeated it, she moaned under her breath and tilted her head back for further admission. "Absolutely not," Severus snarked and moved his mouth away, "Once again, you interrupted a valuable lesson concerning the existence of winged horses."

Hermione snorted, "Get over it. Mum isn't going to stop sending her the figurines."

"I detest how they fly around the house," His fingers pressed into her soft stomach reminding Hermione that it was her doing for charming them to fly in the first place. She chuckled in response.

"Even more so, I dare suggest that I heard one speaking to her in the night," Severus added accusingly.

"Not my doing," Hermione deflected and turned to face him. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck and pulled him close. Even at thirty, she was still at least a head shorter than Severus. Pushing up onto her toes, she grinned and pressed her lips tentatively to him. "Surprise, we have a magical child," She added condescendingly with a gentle laugh. Before he could snark back, Hermione surprised him as she sunk onto her knees and pressed a lingering kiss to the buttons of his trousers. If Severus Snape had a stinging comment on his tongue, it was droned out by his guttural moan as his wife pleasured him with hers.

* * *

Walking into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Granger clutched her leather briefcase as she entered the line of witches and wizards awaiting their screening into the government headquarters. Following the defeat of Voldemort and Ministry coup, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had insisted on new regulations to enter the headquarters. Under the guidance of Ron Weasley, the new regulations had assured no witch or wizard would enter the premises without registering their wand. This registration allowed the DMLE to follow any person or creature who entered the building on a wall-size map located in the Auror's Top Secret office. If the Marauders were still alive and able to see their handiwork encouraging rule following rather than breaking, Hermione was sure they would haunt Ron for using their map as inspiration. The line moved briskly and soon it was her turn to hand over her wand for registration.

"Good morning, Madam Snape," The register grinned and his dark brown hair blossomed to blue. Teddy Lupin tapped her wand against the ledger and watched with awe as her details were recorded onto the scroll. "How is Georgie?"

"Hi Teddy," Hermione chirped happily, "No complaints out of her today. How is Victorie?"

The wizard behind her cleared his throat grumpily and tapped his foot. He clearly had better things to do than listen to the two of them engage in small talk. Hermione knew it was wiser to simply register and continue on, but the eager excitement in Teddy's face made her morning brighter. However, Teddy seemed genuinely contrite that their brief exchange was holding up the line. He extended Hermione's wand back to her and sheepishly grinned. "See you later," Hermione stage-whispered and patted his shoulder as she moved past him heading to the elevators.

Aside from the occasional greeting, Hermione arrived at her office without further delay. Resting her hand on the door, Hermione felt the pressure of the handle unlock and she pushed inside. Per usual, there wizzed a large group of memos above her desk each vying for her attention. Swatting around her head, Hermione settled into her chair and began plucking each one individually out of the air smoothing them onto her desk to read. She ordered them based on the seal of the paper and thus urgency. Before she began to read her diary for today's events or tackle the stack of memos, Hermione conjured her patronus and sent it to her husband informing him that she arrived at work safely. Relaxing back into her chair, she began thumbing through her diary in one hand while reading the first memo. If this was any indication of how her day was going to progress, Hermione did not expect to be home in time for dinner. Sighing heavily, she pulled her hair into a loose chignon, placed her glasses on and began reading in earnest.

Absorbed with the task at hand, Hermione did not realize it was lunch until her Floo roared to life and Ginny stepped out. Brushing a few pieces of soot from her uniform, Ginny grinned and greeted her friend cheerfully. Hermione was too engrossed with her correspondence but waved a hand in greeting. Ginny was, thankfully, patient and more so used to Hermione's practical radio silence when working hard. She took a seat at the front of Hermione's desk and waited until she was finished. When Hermione released a frustrated grumble, Ginny casually rose an eyebrow and asked, "What've they done now?"

Sighing heavily, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath which was meant to be calming but was not. Irritated, she flipped over her diary preferring not to see the meeting that had suddenly appeared in the last minute. Meeting Ginny's gaze, Hermione partook in an exaggerated eye roll and shook her head.

"One would think the boys," She placed extra emphasis on the last word, "in the Auror office would have learned to ask questions first."

Hermione was beyond frustrated with the growing impertinence of the Auror department. Every week, the DMLE referred her cases on their behalf in which Aurors were under review for enhanced interrogation of former-Death Eaters or magical creatures. After the war was won, peace had settled in the English magical community for five years. Unfortunately, with time, peace became more of an ideal than espoused value. The last of the convicted Death Eaters were rounded up and sent to Azkaban for rehabilitation. Naturally, the decision to rehabilitate and not punish had angered many witches and wizards. Shacklebolt's administration was less corrupt than any administration previously, but it was not inherently impenetrable. At first, the suggestion of corruption was a mere whisper.

Following the decision to rehabilitate and not punish former-Death Eaters, there were several pockets of society who insisted the reformation and Wizengamot's decisions were bought. Hermione had vehemently suggested the latter, but even the strongest administration still had those who only worked to represent their self interests. Three high ranking officials were tried for corruption and forced to resign from their positions. This unrest grew in the Wizarding society, pushed by those who felt the Ministry was too kind to former-Death Eaters and called for punishment of the wizards and witches involved. Severus had warned that the following election would be unkind to her progressive ideals, but it was still a great blow when the majority voted in Donella Nuttall, a right-wing hyper conservative who could make Tom Riddle proud.

"That's why they should leave it to us women," Ginny insisted and grinned, hoping to cut the tension.

Her position in the Auror office was precarious. As any Weasley before her, she felt a fierce loyalty to her fellow Auror officers but struggled to agree with growing use of 'enhanced' interrogation tactics. As Hermione frequently reminded the office when she came to lecture, which usually occurred after receiving one of the red sealed memos, the use of Veritaserum was strictly prohibited without explicit consent from her office. The dependency of the Auror department to abuse the substance when the witness or suspect was not forthcoming had quickly become a problem. Several defense lawyers were insisting the use of Veritaserum under duress or without express permission of the drinker was akin to a confession coerced by torture. It was, after all, the duty of the witness or suspect to truthfully admit all what they knew, but it was inappropriate to elicit the information through magic. Hermione frequently reminded the office, they were not at war any longer.

"Half of them shouldn't even be in the bloody profession," Hermione grumbled unhappily and rubbed her temples. A pounding headache was beginning to form and she was thoroughly miserable at the prospect of delivering another press conference to address the allegations, not to mention the reaming she would give the Aurors' office beforehand that would fall onto deaf ears.

"Harry had the right sodding idea," Hermione huffed and crossed her arms angrily. "I have a half mind to quit right here and now."

Ginny snorted, Hermione threatened to quit and join her husband at Hogwarts at least once a week. And while Ginny sympathized with her friend, she doubted even Severus Snape wanted his staff overrun with Gryffindors. From her understanding, he had worked hard to ensure the staff equally represented all four Houses whenever possible. "You won't," Ginny challenged and reached across the desk to grasp her friend's hands, squeezing them in support. "They're listening to you, Hermione. Whether it seems like it or not, these are really just the rotten eggs of the bunch."

Hermione nodded solemnly unsure if she believed what Ginny said.

Changing subject, Hermione asked, "How are your boys?"

Ginny smiled, grateful to change the subject and eager to discuss her twins, "Oh, you know, Mum is spoiling them rotten and they adore staying with her all day. I suspect Dad is grateful George asked for help at the joke shop with all her nattering about. But they arrive home clean and fed every evening, so, I won't complain."

Hermione chuckled, she constantly reminded Severus that fate could have been funny and bestowed them with not one but two wonderful Georgiana's. He was never amused, especially after an evening with the Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley's Terrible Twos. "When does Dean get back," she asked and stood to collect her belongings.

"End of the week," Ginny smirked, "And Mum has already agreed to take the boys over the weekend."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "Don't bless us with another Weasley-Thomas."

Ginny laughed loudly, "Practice makes perfect."

"With contraception it does," Hermione teased and they exited her office for lunch.

* * *

After a bitter afternoon filled with meetings about the 'incident,' another lecture to the Auror department about abuses of Veritaserum and rounded out with the opening remarks in a probation hearing for Gregory Goyle, Hermione was grateful for the day to end and return home. The twisted gates of iron that enclosed Hogwarts buzzed with activity as she extended her hand. The old protective magic of the school and her husband's custom charms welcomed her embrace of the iron. The magic was warm against her touch and Hermione sighed with happiness. Pushing the gate open, she strode through the iron gates and began up the winding path to the entrance doors. As she walked, Hermione contemplated the merits of quitting her job. She was often overworked, underpaid and unappreciated as Severus had put it. However, she had never been able to abandon a project and this was no different. The betterment of the Ministry's bureaucracy depended on the workers like her who continued to put in hours despite the seeming majority working against her. Hermione rarely thought so highly of her career, but Ginny had given her the pep talk she needed.

The entrance doors did not greet her. Instead, She was detoured by the sound of deep laughter and the infectious giggling of young children. In the rolling hills which led to the Quidditch field, Hermione recognized the voice of her daughter and closest friend, Leo. Together, they chased one another up and down the hills. Colorful magic engulfed them both and seemed to intertwine whenever they touched. A short distance away sat her closest and oldest friend, Harry Potter. With a snap of her fingers, she silenced her shoes and slowly crept down the hill to join them. The children stopped short upon seeing her, ready to foil her plot to frighten Harry, but a quick finger to her lips stopped them. Still, they stood with mouths agape and hands occasionally lifting to their lips to smother a laugh. Tip-toeing closer, Hermione jumped what seemed like several feet into the air when Harry laid flat against the grass and grinned wickedly up at her.

"Hullo," He smiled charmingly. "I saw you at the gate," Harry admitted and patted the blanket for her to sit.

Dropping her briefcase, Hermione moved onto her knees and settled to her bum on the blanket. Toeing off her shoes, she rested against her best mate's shoulder and swallowed thickly. She hadn't realized how draining work was until Hermione finally had some peace. She stifled a sob and buried her face in the crook between shoulder and neck. He was warm and smelled of a lavender bath. At the nape of his neck, his hair was still damp and smelled of the lake. She wondered if he and the children had gone swimming.

"Don't let the Aurors get you down, Hermione."

Nodding absently, she twirled the blades of lush grass between her toes. "I keep asking myself what is the point. Nuttall commends their efforts to do 'whatever is necessary' to elicit a confession, but my conscious can no longer abide their immorality."

Hermione explained and drew a hand through her thick locks, "And the sodding public is no help. To them, Death Eaters are Death Eaters are Death Eaters and they wish the entire lot had been Kissed or locked away without any chance for parole."

She huffed with indignation. Even Harry had pitied Tom Riddle for not understanding love. She was sure on some plain that Harry had hated him too. Riddle had, after all, murdered every family member Harry ever had a chance to form a healthy relationship with. Yet, even in the end, Harry had not resorted to using an Unforgivable to defeat Riddle. Sitting up, Hermione relaxed back on her elbows.

"Was it worth leaving," She asked timidly.

"Absolutely," Harry replied confidently.

Hermione nodded, she had known the answer before even asking but felt compelled to ask. Now, she regretted it. She yearned for the happiness in her career that Harry had accomplished. Her thoughts were cut short as Georgiana screamed 'Mummy' and she whipped around to see her daughter cuddling a kneazle kitten to her cheek. Harry snickered but his sarcastic laughter died when Leo bounded up the hill holding a black kneazle kitten and grinning wickedly. Now, it was Hermione's turn to smirk.

* * *

Dinner in the Great Hall was always uneventful when the students were not at Hogwarts. Tonight, the elves had prepared a heavenly boar roast with slow roasted potatoes and French string beans with Hollandaise sauce. It was superb. Feeling disappointed with her career, Hermione had overeaten and eaten until she was beyond stuffed. Groaning, she rolled over in the bed to face Severus. Her hand placed on her bloated abdomen, she groaned again louder this time for effect.

Across from her sat Severus, his reading glasses perched on his nose and quill following along the words of his soon-to-be published textbook, Advanced Potion-Making. After much convincing, he had finally decided to incorporate his personal experimentations and learning into a textbook. Hermione had reasoned, if nothing more it would guarantee that there would be less accidents in the Potion's classroom. At first, he was not persuaded. Potions was no longer his concern, Draco had the misfortune of scrubbing cauldrons when, in Severus' words, 'he was too inept to teach the students how to brew correctly.' When an explosion took out half the dungeon wall and the lake had flooded the entire lower floor, Severus had yielded.

Hermione moaned pitifully.

Never taking her attention away from his book, he asked, "Are you ill?"

She snuggled her face into his side and nodded.

"Surely this bears no correlation to the engorgement charm you must have used to consume the amount of food that you did," He asked sarcastically.

Lifting her head, Hermione glared at him, "Work was a terror."

He nodded silently indicated he was listening. Hermione detailed the pains of her labor and frustrations relating to work. Her husband listened patiently and when he heard the strain in her voice, he snapped his book shut and rested it on the table. His glasses followed and Severus turned to wrap Hermione in his arms. Her head rested on his chest while his long pale fingers tangled in her tresses. Eventually, her words began to slur and his heartbeat lulled her to sleep. Glancing down at her, Severus pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head and then adjusted to lie back on the pillows.

"A thousand times good night," Severus murmured against her temple and closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

The following morning Hermione Granger woke with a start. Her heart was racing wildly, sweat beaded at her forehead and her clothes were damp with perspiration. While she could not recall her dreams, there was a definitive chill that ran down her spine. Hermione could not place her finger on what had spooked her from her dreams, but could not shake the feeling that something was not right. Reaching across the bed, she searched for her husband and rested a hand on his shoulder. The heat from his shoulder was unexpected, Severus' daily anti-venom medications kept his skin relatively cool to the touch. Leaning forward on her elbow, she used the opposite hand to pull her husband onto his back. She desired to rest her ear against his chest and allow the sounds of his heartbeat to lull her to sleep. As she tugged and he rolled onto his back, Hermione gasped aloud. Her hand slapped to her lips and heart jumped the surprise.

Jumping from the bed, she stubbed her toe and fell onto her arse. Her palms were spread onto the floor as she scurried across the floor. Her thighs burned and joints creaked from the effort to stand upright. Finally standing, Hermione made a beeline for the bedroom door. Her feet were barely across the threshold when the groaning and muttering from the bed stopped her. Spending a moment to glance over her shoulder, Hermione met the dark blue eyes of her late former-boyfriend, Ronald Weasley. His freckled face was crinkled in surprise and slack with tiredness. Her lips dropped to form an "o" hoping to emit a sound and temper her shock, but he beat her to it.

"'Ermione," He grumbled questionably. "Come back to bed, love."

Her brow furrowed, what had he said? The panic in her belly died down. Surely, this was a dream. The Ronald Weasley that she knew was long dead. Shortly after their kiss during the Battle of Hogwarts, he had succumbed to an overlooked internal injury. Molly had just begun to return to normalcy what with losing two children in the war. Yet, this dream seemed stubbornly real. Her palms sweated and stomach churned once more.

"Ron," She asked questionably. "Ron, is that you?"

"Who else would it be, Hermione?" He asked groggily and buried his head under the pillow. "Come back to bed before the children hear you."

"The chil-" Her eyes searched the room for some confirmation of what he had said.

Where was Georgiana?

Scanning the photographs, she searched for a hint of her family. None of the photographs were familiar to her despite the people within it being so. She skipped from one picture to another and each was more frighteningly unfamiliar than the last.

The photograph on her bedside table, which looked to be hazardously angling itself on three legs instead of four, was the most bewildering. Hermione and Ron waved from the photo frame along with two small redheads who bounced at their feet. She moved away from the door to the bed as if hypnotized and lifted the photo. It was plain as day. The children had her almond shaped eyes and dusky skin, but their freckles were darkened surely from hours in the sun. Both had Ron's bright blue eyes that mirrored the sky. Dropping the frame, the glass shattered on the floor, splintering and sending shards everywhere.

The last thing Hermione recalled was loud screech of a little girl screaming for her mummy and she off-handedly remarked, it was not the sound of her daughter's voice.


End file.
